Hogwarts Idol!
by Ariadne Glover
Summary: Who will win the first Hogwarts Idol? The votes are in, and either Harry, Snape or Creevey can win...Set during HBP


**This is a Christmas prezzie for my friend Molly Lolly! And, hey, Messer-Moony can have a slice too! Nothing belongs to me except for Albie the fascist Mugwagon!**

_Hello and welcome to Hogwarts Idol, our new annual tradition! I am Albus Dumbledore, or to you students "Albie the fascist Mugwagon", and lets meet our judges for the night. First up is Filius Flitwick, our resident Charms teacher! We also welcome Viktor Krum and Ollivander from various paths of life, and whatever. Guess our first finalist. His parents died when he was very young, he has a lightning bolt scar…it's…HARRY POTTER!_

"So, Mr Potter, how old are you?" said Professor Flitwick, looking at the entry form before him.

"I'm 16, sir. I'm in your class." Harry replied, confused by Flitwick's seeming forgetfulness.

"And what do you plan to sing today?"

"I'd like to sing 'Animal' by Neon Trees." Harry propped his microphone up to his height, taking it out of the stand.

"Take it away!" gestured Ollivander.

"_I'd do it every time! You're killing me now! WOAH OH, I WANT SOME MORE, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?"_ Harry sang loudly, belting out the words intensely, dancing through each guitar solo. The thing he didn't notice was the fact that he was completely out of time with the music, coming in a bar after time.

"So, what d'you think?" he said, shaking violently.

"Son, you have a nice voice, but I think that if you don't get the timing right then there's no place in this industry for you. So, it's a no from me. Sorry." replied Ollivander guiltily. Harry swallowed, if Viktor said no, he'd not get in.

_Harry's future doesn't look to bright does it? Let's see what Mr Krum thinks of his performance._

"I personavly vink thart thees vas a good pervormance. Ves, ves, VES!" Viktor's accent stuck out like a Death Eater over the microphone, and soon there was a hushed giggling at his accent.

"Professor Flitwick?" murmured Harry under his breath.

"It wasn't a starling performance, Harry. I undoubtedly thought you could do much better than this genre of music. Sorry, but I'm saying no – Perhaps next year?"

"BUT I'LL BE FIGHTING BLOODY VOLDEMORT THEN!" screamed Harry, stomping off the stage like a four year old with no Bertie Botts.

_So, Harry Potter didn't get through this year. Perhaps he will next year, unless as he says, he is fighting He Who Must Not Be Named…_

_Onto our next finalist, Professor Severus Snape! Now while it may seem odd that someone of this great age may be competing, it isn't. Snape is the head of Slytherin house, and is renowned to be one of He Who Must Not Be Named's right hand men._

"Ah, Severus. Good to see you singing again!" Flitwick smiled evilliy, and Snape blushed until he was the colour of Dirigible Plums.

"Um, yes." He whispered in reply. Back stage, Fred and George were roaring with laughter with this embarrassing piece of information.

"Why do you think you should win Hogwarts Idol?" asked Ollivander, and he look into Snape's beady, little, rook-like eyes. Snape coughed, stood up straighter, and prepared himself.

"SO THE DARK LORD MAY REIGN SUPREME!" Everybody started to laugh now, floored by Snape's incredible joke.

"Ah, Snape. You make us laugh!" cried Flitwick, wiping tears from his eyes, "Let's cut to the chase. What are you singing for us tonight?" Snape blushed once again, obviously the song was designed to make people laugh.

"Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend by…Marilyn Monroe." And the soft, lilting tune began instantaneously.

"_A kiss on the hand, may be quite continental. But diamonds are a girl's best friend! A kiss may be grand, BUT IT WON'T PAY THE RENTAL, on your humble flat. Or pay you at the automat!"_ Snape sung in tune, with a delicate voice to harmonise with Marilyn's programmed voice. Once the tune had finished, Viktor Krum began to clap. He stood up, clapping harder, and the audience began to join in with him. Flitwick began to speak.

"Oh my gosh, Snape. It must have taken you a lot of courage to sing that song. I'm so glad you're finally out of the closet – WE DON'T NEED YOU, CREEVEY, I'M GIVING SNAPE THE PRIZE!" Snape fell over, passed out of shock.

_So, Snape won this year's Hogwarts Idol with a simple 1950's tune. I am Albie the Fascist Mugwagon, and we'll see you next year for the next series of Hogwarts Idol!_


End file.
